The irony in St. John's voice did not go unnoticed by Gay, but he
continued bravely.

"I will, if her mother won't."

"You? My good friend, you can scarce keep yourself. But 'tis like you to
add to the burden of debt round your neck rather than reduce it. Have
you been left a fortune? Have your dead South Sea Shares come back to
life?"

"Nay, Bolingbroke, don't remind me of my folly," rejoined Gay, a little
piqued. "We can't always be wise. Thou thyself--but let that pass, the
future is the foundation of hope. Before long I shall be in funds. The
'Fables' will be in the booksellers' hands ere the month is out."

"Oh, that's well. But the booksellers, though eager enough to sell their
wares, are not so ready to pay the writer his due. Moreover if I know
anything of John Gay, of a certainty all the money he puts in his pocket
will go out of the hole at the other end."

"I know--I know," rejoined the poet hastily. "But I'm not thinking alone
of the booksellers. It is a 'place' I shall have and an annual income
that will sweep away all my anxieties."

"Then you're in favour with the Princess and her obedient servant Sir
Robert--or is Walpole her master? What will the Dean of St. Patrick and
Mr. Pope say to your surrender?"

"No, no. I will never write a word in praise of either. There's not a
word in the 'Fables' that can be twisted into bolstering up the